Silent Requiem for a Raven
by In Starlight and in Shadows
Summary: The moments that defined the life of J. K. Rowling's most mysterious and complex character. A more in depth retelling of the tragic love story of Lily Evans and Severus Snape. Mostly canon, with a few added scenes. Angst, fluff, snark, potions, and poetry.


**A/N: **Ravens have long been considered ill omens, associated with war, fate and death. They often play minor roles in mythological tales as guides, messengers or manifestations of mysterious forces.

In Irish mythology ravens are associated with warfare and the Morrígan, the goddess of battle, strife, and sovereignty.

The name of the god, Lugh, is also derived from a Celtic word for "raven." He is the god of the sun, and the creator of the arts and sciences.

The raven also has a prominent role in the mythologies of the Indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest Coast. The raven in these indigenous peoples' mythology is the Creator of the world, but it is also considered a trickster god. For instance, in Tlingit culture, there are two different raven characters that can be identified, although they are not always clearly differentiated. One is the creator raven, responsible for bringing the world into being and who is sometimes considered to be the individual who brought light to the darkness. The other is the childish raven, always selfish, sly, conniving, and hungry.

Ravens mate for life.

* * *

**First Love**

I ne'er was struck before that hour  
With love so sudden and so sweet,  
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower  
And stole my heart away complete.  
My face turned pale as deadly pale.  
My legs refused to walk away,  
And when she looked, what could I ail?  
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face  
And took my eyesight quite away,  
The trees and bushes round the place  
Seemed midnight at noonday.  
I could not see a single thing,  
Words from my eyes did start -  
They spoke as chords do from the string,  
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter's choice?  
Is love's bed always snow?  
She seemed to hear my silent voice,  
Not love's appeals to know.  
I never saw so sweet a face  
As that I stood before.  
My heart has left its dwelling-place  
And can return no more

~John Clare

Severus Snape knew that he wasn't a particularly attractive or likeable child. His clothes were worn and mismatched and ill-fitting, his hair was long and unkempt and seldom washed. His parents had little care for his appearance, or even his general welfare, so he had never really learned to make himself appear socially acceptable, nor did he care to learn. In his opinion most people were idiots anyway, and he had no need to impress them. One day, he would he would leave this rundown neighbourhood to go to Hogwarts, the best school of magic in Great Britain, and he would become more powerful than any of the muggles who judged him by his uncouth appearance could possibly comprehend.

Even though Severus didn't desire friendship from any of the children he encountered, (they were all boring and close-minded and not particularly intelligent), he sometimes watched them play together and wished that he had a friend to play games with, someone to talk to and show off his magic for. Someone smart enough to keep up with him, and magical so that they could understand him. He often lay under the bushes near the playground, watching and listening to the muggle children having fun and felt both envy and contempt. They may have parents who loved them, and friends to laugh with, but they were small, their whole world was small and they didn't even know it. They were like birds who had lived all their lives with clipped wings, never knowing that somewhere out there were wild birds who were free from the oppressive rule of gravity. Severus vowed to himself that someday he would fly away from this dirty, bleak place and never return.

It was early summer, and he spent most of his days observing the children in the playground, or wandering down near the polluted river, daydreaming about magical castles and potions and spells. Sometimes he borrowed one of his mother's magic books and absorbed every bit of knowledge he could, so that he could impress the people at Hogwarts and make them want to be his friends.

He was hiding in his special spot under the bushes and reading about blood magic the first time he saw her. It was just a flash out of the corner of his eye that drew his attention, the weak sunlight gleaming on her long red hair. She laughed as she ran by him, not noticing he was there. Nobody ever noticed, and that was the way he liked it because being noticed only brought trouble, but suddenly he had the strange thought that maybe he would have liked it, if she had noticed him.

He watched her surreptitiously for the rest of the afternoon, even though he tried not to. There was just something about her that drew his eye, an energy and grace and spirit that made him want to draw closer, like a moth to a flame or a snake to sunlight.

She was playing with a girl Severus thought was probably her sister, even though she obviously wasn't as pretty or intelligent. They were playing tag, taking turns running and chasing while their parents watched indulgently. Listening to their excited squeals, he learned that her name was Lily, and her sister was called Tuney.

If he hadn't been observing her so closely he might never have seen it. She had led her sister on a merry chase through the playground and gotten far enough ahead that she could dart behind a tree. She giggled as she watched her sister search, waiting until she was almost discovered before dashing towards another tree, and in that moment, when she was exposed and her sister might have seen her, she vanished.

Severus blinked. Had she just done magic? If she had, no one else seemed to have noticed. He felt his heart pound and flutter in his chest. If she was magical then he could talk to her, and maybe she would want to be his friend and they could go to Hogwarts together and read books and do magic!

He watched her attentively for the rest of the day, even followed her as she walked back home with her family. Her house was much nicer than his, it looked neat and in good repair, coloured cheery white, while his was a dull grayish-brown, composed of dirty bricks and apathy. He peered into the windows, wondering which one was hers. Wondering what it would be like to be in the warm inside looking out, instead of in the cold outside looking in.

He looked for her in the playground every day for the next few weeks, imagining over and over what he would say to her, how he would approach her. But when she finally came back, her sister was with her and Severus felt too intimidated to talk to reveal himself, although he should have expected that she wouldn't be alone. He knew that most children didn't have families whose lives revolved around a gin bottle.

He watched as she and her sister sat side by side on the swings, but Lily swung higher and higher, ignoring her sister's shrieks of alarm. She swung as high as she could, and then leapt out into the air, laughing as, just for a moment, she flew, the way Severus had always wanted to fly.

She landed gracefully and walked close to Severus' hiding place to pick up a flower.

"Tuney, look at this," she said to her sister, "Watch what I can do!"

Severus watched from behind the bushes, entranced, as the tiny flower in her palm opened and closed all on it's own. He thought it was almost as beautiful as she was.

But her sister shrieked, frightened by the unnatural display, and Lily dropped the flower.

"It's not right," her ugly, ignorant sister said. "How do you do it?" Severus could hear the jealousy and longing in her voice, and he couldn't contain himself any longer, he couldn't let Lily think that her magic was anything other than wonderful and precious. It made her special, like him, and her muggle sister would never understand.

Severus jumped clumsily out of the bushes, and the stupid sister screamed and leapt backwards.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" He was not impressed with her sister's stupidity. "You're a witch."

But instead of looking grateful or happy or intrigued, Lily looked insulted. "_That's _not a very nice thing to say to somebody!" She exclaimed, and the turned to walk away from him.

"No!" He exclaimed, stumbling after her, his overlarge black coat flapping around him like wings and making him look like an ungainly, flightless bird. He was desperate to stop her from leaving. This wasn't going at all like he had planned. He stuttered through an explanation, telling her that she was a witch and he was a wizard and he had been watching her… but nothing seemed to come out right, and her sister dragged her away before he could really explain anything. His blood rushed in his ears and his face paled. A pit opened up where his heart should be, as if she had taken it with her when she walked away from him. He had ruined everything.

That night he cried himself to sleep.

But fate must have decided to give him another chance, because the next day _she _came looking for _him. _And almost every day after that for the rest of the summer. He told her about magic, and his parents, and Hogwarts. She became the best friend he had always wanted, the brightest part of his dull life. She was bright intelligence, fiery temper and warm kindness, and when she smiled at him, Severus felt like he really could fly.

* * *

**A/N: A 'requiem' is a mass for the dead. This story is a 'silent requiem' because it is a requiem composed of written words instead of spoken prayers or songs. Each chapter will chronicle of a turning point in the life of J. K. Rowling's most mysterious and tragic character, and will be accompanied and inspired by a famous poem.**

**I don't expect this to become a terribly popular story, I'm mostly writing it to challenge myself as well as to share my love for gorgeous poetry with you all. Expect angst, fluff, snark, and poetry from masters such as Lord Byron, Maya Angelou and Edgar Allen Poe (but not "The Raven", that would be too obvious).**

**I really wanted to include _The Quality of Courage_, by Stephen Vincent Benet, which is a beautiful poem that fits the life of Severus Snape so well that it's actually kind of scary. Unfortunately it's much too long, but if you like poetry and Snape I encourage you to look it up.**

**If you liked it so far, please let me know, and constructive criticism is always welcome.**


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